Page 19 of Seven Rules for Breaking Hearts

“Zipline thing,” I repeated. “What zipline thing?”

He took his dear, sweet time sipping his coffee before he answered. “Peter said they were planning for us to all go ziplining today. Didn’t Jo mention it?”

I didn’t love how smug he sounded, but whatever his reason for sounding that way, I didn’t particularly care. This new revelation took precedence over whatever Declan was or wasn’t trying to do. “Excuse me,” I said, jumping to my feet so quick that the cold dregs of my coffee sloshed around the mug, threatening to spill over.

“Did I say something wrong?” he called, but I was already slipping inside and shutting the glass door behind me.

Jocelyn Hernandez @JoHo_in_NoHo ∙ Jul 16

Super stoked to go ziplining today with

@AvalonAdventureCo!! Thank you again to our sponsors

@castawaycat for making all this happen. Pics coming soon!

32 17 1.3k

Liv, Laugh, Love @LivHolistic ∙ Jul 16

Replying to @7R4BHpodcast

So jealous! Hope I’m not missing out on ALL the fun

Raquel O’Brien @raqyoursaqsoff ∙ Jul 16

Replying to @7R4BHpodcast

Omg I could never. I’m terrified of heights. Can’t wait to see the pics, though!!

Mar[Go] @margoanderson ∙ Jul 16

CHAPTER8

After a short elevator ride and a few frantic knocks at Room 317, Jo opened the door. She was still in her pajamas, no makeup on and her black hair in a frazzled braid. She waved me inside. “Are you hungry? I ordered on Postmates from one of the local places. Wasn’t feeling the whole fruit and pastry spread they had going downstairs.”

I took a moment to gape at her room as I stepped inside and she shut the door behind me. The bridal suite was an expansive luxury suite on the third floor. There was a wide modern living room with a cushy-looking sofa, a kitchenette, and—down the hall—a massive four-poster California King bed. French doors opened to a private patio overlooking the landscaped courtyard, which looked like a scene imported straight from a Tuscan village.

At the moment, the whole luxurious suite smelled like hot sauce and eggs. The coffee table hosted a paper bag and a few Styrofoam containers, and a yellow wrapper was unfolded on the glass, revealing a half-eaten breakfast burrito. My stomach churned. Nothing against breakfast burritos, but I was already queasy. “Not particularly,” I said, as Jo sank cross-legged onto the couch and resumed her breakfast. “What’s this I’m hearing about ziplining?”

“I told you we were ziplining today,” she said through a mouthful of thick tortilla.

I remained standing. “No, you didn’t.”

She furrowed her brow. “I put it in the social media calendar.”

“I’m not sure that qualifies as telling me,” I pointed out. This was something that frustrated me about running the podcast, at times—the moments when we got so wrapped up in being business partners, we forgot to talk to each other like friends. Sometimes I wondered if Jo asking me to be her maid of honor was just another strategic decision. Would she have chosen someone else if we’d never gotten wrapped up in the podcast together?

That was silly. Of course she would have.

Jo sucked Tapatío off the side of her thumb. “Renee asked whether we’d be willing to do a promo shoot as part of their contract with the outdoorsy …” She seemed to forget what the business was supposed to be called and made a vague gesture like I could somehow fill in the blank for her. “The adventure company, or whatever, here on the island. I told her it wouldn’t be a problem.”

I folded my arms, mounting my defenses. Renee was the marketing director for Castaway Catalina, and she’d preferred to work almost exclusively with Jo through the various emails and phone calls. I’d taken the backseat in this whole arrangement. Which made sense, on one hand, considering it was Jo’s wedding and not my own, but on the other hand, I was still an equal partner in the podcast, and I didn’t appreciate being sidelined. “Why would you tell her that?”

“Because we’re professionals.” There was a pregnant pause. The end of Jo’s burrito lay forgotten in its wrapper. “But I could see about canceling. If you want.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek as I considered this. The email from the lingerie company was still fresh in my mind. Losing one sponsor I could live with, but a second sponsor within the same day? It was a risk I wasn’t willing to take. Especially when this particular sponsor was so crucial to our plans for the next two weeks. “I’ll go,” I bit out. “If you tell me why you ignored my text earlier.”

Her chewing slowed. “I didn’t ignore it.” She swallowed. “I mean, I read it.”